


We Play Hide and Seek in Waterfalls

by Plumptie



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Deaf Character, Deaf!Inquisitor, Dorks in Love, Fluff, M/M, Magic Play, Protective!Dorian, Protectiveness, Shyness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 13:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4021219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plumptie/pseuds/Plumptie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bond of innocence that occurs between Dorian and the Inquisitor is the very last thing everyone expects to transpire among those two. </p><p>(Or how Dorian tries to find a way to communicate with his amatus)</p><p>Deaf!Inquisitor</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Play Hide and Seek in Waterfalls

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta. Sorry T_T

*****

**Solas**

"So any opinions to share here?”

The elf sighs for the umpteenth times as the necromancer pokes-and-prods at him yet again. It seems even his proficiently mastered ' _do not disturb me lest you face the consequences_ ' aura does not work its charm against Dorian. This doesn't bode well for the loner soul.

"Listen, Dorian." Solas heaves heavily. "I'm unable to respond such thought simply because I assume the Inquisitor prefers to master the spirit class rather than the flame magicks. He strikes me as the type that prefers to fade in the background, channeling supports whenever he can. As I have previously stated, again." He purposely emphasizes 'again' to send the message.

Dorian's eyes narrow. "Yes, but if he applies to both fire and spirit-"

"Dorian." His voice is now deep and strict, having almost reached the end of his patience as they've been at this debate for nearly an hour. "Why does it bother you that the Inquisitor is lacking offensive spells? Surely, he knows how to navigate himself in the battlefield. Then, there are Cassandra and I, and sometimes Varric or mayhap Iron Bull to keep him safe. I- we won't allow any harm come to him."

And this one thing Solas can be most assured of. Regardless of what, he'll keep the young Dalish elf safe to the best of his capabilities. He owes Lavellan that much.

"And me." Dorian pipes in.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'll protect him too, Solas."

The elf blinks twice at the solid determination in the man's voice. There, he sees it again; the same distant, unfathomable gaze that always lurks in the young man's eyes whenever their topic reverts back to Lavellan. He knows at least that Lavellan considers the shem a good friend (or maybe more. He can’t tell with those two). Perhaps the only one to consider as such so far. Dorian isn't hated, but he certainly isn't welcomed by most even though the hostility has toned down, albeit in a small amount, after Haven.

Young souls are such a curious creature.

Solas exhales a soft sigh. He makes a quiet trek toward the paints. He needs to resume the fourth rural on the walls-

"Lavellan- he...I had nothing else for-for a lo-...long time. And he's the only one-" Dorian speaks as if he's in a gentle stupor, as if he's forgotten of the elf's presence, as if he's entered that one memory he tries to wrap so tenderly. Solas' old enough to know what it is.

It's the rift mage's next declaration that snaps the human from his daze. "Mayhap this is not a proper place to discuss such a private matter." He looks at Dorian. The shem is quick to replace his fidgeting twitch with an arrogant, stoic mask. "Now, if you excuse me."

Solas continues leaving summaries of the Inquisitor's achievements on the walls.

Dorian quietly leaves the chamber.

*****

**Sera and Cole**

"I know you were in my tent again, you freak-" Sera stops immediately, her hand barely reaching Cole's collar when she spots two figures standing next to each other in a small, but filled-with-fireflies meadow. The moon is not bright enough for her to see the faces but she knows oh so well that she's currently watching Dorian and Lavellan admiring the fireflies.

"Sera-"

"Ugh!" the girl grunts as she pulls the boy - who's apparently more human now. Gratitude goes the Inquisitor - and hits his stupid hat, lightly. A bit. "Quiet, you!" she points at the two figures with a mischievous grin. "You know what that means?"

Cole blinks. His eyes squint before he answers. "I don't think Dorian would appreciate this as a blackmail material." The human-spirit looks troubled. "I do not wish to offend, Dorian."

"Pfft, you! You're more human now but you still can read minds, eh?"

"Of course."

"So what's he thinking, eh?"

"Sera, I do not think-"

"Oh come on. Just one? You help people, right? This is me right now, in need of a giant help." Sera cackles, punching Cole's shoulder once to alleviate the gloominess emitting from the boy.

"Well..." Cole looks at the pair. Dorian's smile is small and a bit downcast, but the flutter in his chest is genuine and gentle. Lavellan has always been hard to read. Too bright.

_"Heart whispers like a splintered stone. Heavy. Voiceless but still here. Chest heavy. Listening to the sound that can't speak. Red. Pain. It hurts. Choking. But oh, here he comes. White. Like a feather. Don't slip through my fingers. Safe. Want. Protect. I'm here. You are the feather."_

Sera listens. Her face passive as she gazes at Cole quietly, then at Dorian, back at the spirit before she slowly scratches the back of her head and pulls Cole back with her to the camp.

"Come on, freak. You're going to return what you've taken."

"Oh, but I didn't take your wooden horse. Varric did."

Sera's matured enough to know what the little riddle means. The Inquisitor is a bad influence in her life.

*****

**Vivienne**

Vivienne hisses at the younger man. "Dorian. Come here, dear, and allow me to fix such a horrendous misplacement of those straps. You appear as if you want to wrestle a bear to the ground instead of blistering them with your harmful spells."

"What-" Dorian broadens his chest. "I'll let you know, Vivienne, that my fashion sense has earned quiet the looks."

"Of course." The enchanter deadpans as she pushes Dorian's hands away to fix the position of the belts around the man's waist and back. Atrocious, to think someone can condone a simple fashion like this. They're heading out to Exalted Plains. Still, one must always possess a regal look regardless of the whereabouts. "I'm sure the looks are simply anything but judgmental." sarcasm drips from her tone.

Dorian just snorts at it.

"And-oh! My darling Inquisitor. Whatsoever the matter, dear?" Vivienne carefully speaks to ensure Lavellan can see her mouth’s movement.

She notices how Dorian instantly goes rigid under her touch. The enchanter temporarily ignores him.

Lavellan stops midway, blinking at her, and then at Dorian. Though the other man is so keen on keeping his eyes on the balcony. Lavellan smiles sweetly at the necromancer before he throws a soft nod at her. The elf leaves without the sound of his footsteps padding on the floor.

Vivienne watches him go...and knocks Dorian in the head once.

The mage bristles. "What was that for?"

"What did you do now?"

"Why must one assume it's me who often starts the trouble?"

_Quiet_

_Quiet_

_Quite_

Then Dorian mumbles.

"What is it, dear?"

He mumbles again under his breath, arrogantly flipping his short hair as he struts out from her chamber. His posture reeks with confidence even when the slight tremble in his voice proves otherwise. Vivienne raises one elegant brow. Thank Andraste she manages to catch the whispered words.

_'I accidentally kissed his cheek'_

She never wonders why a man such as Dorian Pavus hesitates when it comes to their precious Inquisitor, because Dorian Pavus himself is already the answer to that question.

*****

**Blackwall**

The Warden continues to observe the necromancer sharply. Dorian doesn't timid down from the calculating gaze.

"One question." Blackwall lifts his index finger at the younger man.

Dorian grunts. "Yes yes, just be quick."

"Why a nug?"

"Why not?" He sighs. "Look, I'll pay you; I'm wealthy enough for that. Or if you prefer a payment in drinks, then you may put everything on my tab. All I want is a carving of a small, wooden nug. Mind you, if you can paint it in pale pink, I'll triple the rewards. It’s all about the quality."

Blackwall just keeps his eyes on Dorian. They don't share the same views and beliefs, but Dorian is a friend enough to know that this request is an odd one. "Is it for someone special?"

"Yes, for Cole."

"Really?"

"Of course not. Urgh. Can you do it?" Dorian questions as he tries to hide a...blush by throwing his glances at everywhere but at the Warden. Huh.

Why is he-...oh! Oh.

Leisurely, a smirk starts to creep on the Warden's face. Of course. Why not? The Inquisitor is the person other than Cole that adores the little pink-skinned creatures. However, the Inquisitor is the only soul that can turn Dorian Pavus into a fierce, protective warrior mage when the elf is in danger. The dead dragons are one of the proofs to that.

"For you, Pavus? Anything." Blackwall joshes. Kids, so young and so foolish.

*****

**Dorian**

"Enjoying the flickers from the candle?" Dorian teases once he sees Lavellan looking directly at him. The elf puckers his face adorably before he hides deeper into the warm quilt. Dorian smiles. It's not always he can find the Inquisitor tucking himself in Dorian's armchair, the thick wool sheet draping all over his lithe body.

"Do. Ri. An?" Lavellan's rarely used voice is small and croaky. He points at his chest and at his throat whilst he makes gestures with his fingers. Dorian bends down and pecks Lavellan's nose. "I'm fine, amatus. Just thinking."

It takes milliseconds for Lavellan to fully interpret his words by reading his lips.

"Anyway, I have a gift for you."

Lavellan blinks.

"Well, gifts actually. But I'll give you this one first." Dorian claims. He picks his beloved's small form into his arms - Lavellan squeaks -, reclaiming his amatus' previous spot on his armchair as he puts Lavellan down on his laps. Dorian gently kisses his amatus' forehead.

Lavellan draws closer to the familiar embrace.

"Fiona and I had been working on this for weeks. She hated my remarkable, natural talents, of course. But she adored my determination." Dorian tries to bite the elf's thumb when he feels it brushing against his lips.

Lavellan chuckles, voiceless this time. The elf stares at the same position Fiona often stands proudly but it's night so it's only normal for her not to be there at the moment. Probably with the rest of the mages at the newly built Mage tower.

"Here." Dorian raises his palm in front of Lavellan, chanting a quiet incantation under his hushed voice. In a matter of seconds, odd green-cyan rune begins to emerge on Dorian's hand. It peels itself away and curiously floats about before Lavellan. The rune is as large as a size of a thumb and it flickers like a crystalline ice.

What's more, Lavellan understands the meaning behind the floating rune.

 _Amatus_ , it depicts.

Lavellan gapes like a silly little fish.

Dorian materializes more of the tiny runes and they float patiently just as before.

_It's a rune charm_

Dorian casts some more.

_Its purpose is to speak, for you_

_I'll teach you_

_So you and I_

_May communicate like this_

_It uses very little mana_

_So it won't tire you_

As of right now, the many runes Dorian has summoned begin to swirl around them, creating an illusion similar to that of scattering fireflies. Lavellan pokes at them and it feels...warm. The same kind of heat you feel when you stand before a fireplace after a long night out in the snow.

They begin to disappear, however, one after another. Swooshing like candlelight as the air whisks it away into the night.

Lavellan smiles a watery smile.

He looks up at his lover and there's Dorian...staring at him like he has the entire world safely cocooned in his embrace. A look that exists only when he's gazing at the elf.

"One day," the human starts. "I'll fill your world with songs you can hear and sing, amatus. This, I swear to you."

Dorian summons some more of the runes. Bluish purple tints from the runes reflect in Lavellan's eyes.

_I adore you_

*

**Author's Note:**

> I want to put Varric, Cassandra and Iron Bull but- I don't know really.
> 
> Anyway, I take drabble prompts for da:i. Just drop 'em here: duriansoya.tumblr.com/


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